


Adrift at St Bridget's Prep Academy for Young Women

by arysthaeniru



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: 1940s, 20th Century, Canon Compliant, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysthaeniru/pseuds/arysthaeniru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Susan, returning to England the first time, had been easier, with support from all sides. As she struggles to find herself and the right balance between school-child and adult, Susan cannot help but be grateful for Lucy and everything Lucy has done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrift at St Bridget's Prep Academy for Young Women

**Author's Note:**

  * For [straightforwardly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/gifts).



The train’s wheels rattled against the tracks and Susan leant back against the seat, eyes glazing over the book she was trying to read. Lucy’s gaze was out towards the window, at the countryside passing them by, eyes drifting shut slowly, until her breathing fell completely even, in a familiar tone from years of sleeping close to each other. Susan exhaled heavily, and gently closed the pages of the book. There was no use trying to read, when her eyes were welling up with tears. 

With a light sniff, she tugged on the ends of her cardigan and wiped away her tears. She hadn’t wished to cry in front of her younger siblings, not wanting Edmund and Lucy to see her like this, her face stained with tears. She almost wished for Peter to be there by her side, so she could cry on his shoulder and he could pretend that he wasn’t blubbing, too, for he was the only other one who’d understand, having heard Aslan’s words and that gentle, devastating tone. 

But now, she was returning to St Bridget's Prep Academy for Young Women and gosh, that felt stifling, in the aftermath of this second visit to Narnia. Returning back to England hadn’t been this bad the last time, but then again, returning last time had been to the Professor’s house, to discuss the phenomena of Narnia with him. And all four of them had spent late nights holed up in their bedrooms, talking it over, sharing stories and holding each other. Away from the rest of civilization. 

But now, she barely got a few hours to recover herself. 

She didn’t know why she was crying so much! They had thought they had left Narnia for good the first time, as well. Yet, she had never felt this pit in her stomach then. The last time she’d felt this saddened had been when she’d walked among the injured, after her mistake with Rabadash had lead to the Battle of Anvard, and that memory set her at ill ease. 

“Aslan, give me strength to keep walking your path.” she muttered, as the tears finally petered away. Her voice was hoarse and speaking too much made the lump in her throat hurt, as if a second round of tears was about to come upon her. So Susan didn’t speak again, choosing to rummage around with their things, carefully, taking a small inventory of what they had left behind in Narnia. 

Since they had eaten Edmund and Peter’s sandwiches on that cold first day in Narnia, Susan had given up her sandwiches, so that the boys would have something to eat on their journey to their school. It would be small, miserly fare for each of them, but rationing in England was not new, and they would cope. Lucy had left her socks somewhere on the coast of Cair Paravel, and getting those back had seemed like more trouble than it had been worth, so Susan resigned herself to giving up on one pair of her own, since Lucy always got her socks dirty. And now there were a fair number of burrs in her and Lucy’s skirts. Well, she could try and mend them once in school, she supposed. 

With a shaky exhale, Susan rubbed at her eyes again, hoping that it didn’t look like she’d been crying too much. Just as she made up her mind to open her book again, the compartment door opened and two very familiar girls peered into the compartment. 

“Golly gosh, Susan!” called Alice Jones, with a wide grin. “It’s been forever and a half!” By her side, the more shy and sweet, Kendra Marshall waved, softly. 

Susan got up and pulled Alice into a tight hug, smiling down at Kendra, wordlessly, as she tried harder than ever to get rid of the lump in her throat. “Did you cut your hair?” asked Alice, tugging at the strands of Susan’s hair. “It looks really good!”

“Did I?” asked Susan, glancing down at her hair. “I can’t remember, honestly, I must have done it some time back!” 

“You must have, it used to hit your back.” Kendra added, quietly, taking a seat on top of Susan’s bags, playing with her braid, carefully. 

Susan laughed. “Well, we were working pretty hard at the Professor’s House, helping him take in stuff from museums and all. It was most likely just for convenience. It’s much easier to take care of shorter hair, especially when they’re starting to ration soap now.” She had always had fairly short hair in Narnia as well, so it was easier to tie back for battles. She supposed she and Lucy had just cut their hair to suit what they had always been used to. 

Alice laughed, leaning back against the compartment door. “I know what you mean. We had to go and help in the fields at our new home. You’re lucky that your family friend could take you in!” How odd it felt to be talking about haircuts, after nearly eight months evacuated to the country, and after the battle and party in Narnia. It felt queer, like something was about to miraculously burst and explode and make everything more serious. It felt silly, but at the same time, wasn't this what little girls were supposed to talk about? She was no queen, not anymore, and she had to remember that. Back to being Susan Pevensie, the beautiful but not particularly bright young girl 

Lucy stirred at the windows and sleepily turned around to look at the two new people. “Su?” she asked, sleepily. “What’s the matter?”

Susan smiled, softly. “Lucy, these are my friends, Alice Jones and Kendra Marshall. You two, this is my sister, Lucy. It’s her first year, here.” she said, calmly. Funny how it was easier to settle into Susan Pevensie speech terms, when she was forced into it. 

Kendra waved, again, but Alice surged forward, to pinch Lucy’s cheeks. “Aren’t you a sweetiepie? Man, you look just like Susan. But cuter~”

Lucy looked rather grumpy, struggling to pull away, glaring firmly at Alice. Susan stifled a giggle, and tapped Alice’s shoulder. “Alice, you simply won’t believe what I found at the Professor’s house!” she said, quickly changing the topic to something different, instantly pulling away Alice’s attention. Kendra noticed it, and giggled into her sleeve. Susan smiled back at Kendra, with a light air of mischief, as she pulled out her stockings from the bag, amid many gasps.

As Alice cooed over the tights, Susan tossed a look back to Lucy, who looked a little sleepy and confused. Susan made a quick hand signal to tell Lucy to go back to sleep and to not worry. Lucy’s eyebrows furrowed, but she pulled her legs up, and curled up closer to the window. Susan focused her entire attention on Alice and Kendra, trying to suppress the feeling of bizarrity about all of this. Alice and Kendra had been amazing before, and even if she felt somewhat removed from their situation, she had to pretend to care,at least. She owed them that much. 

-

For the next week, Susan was caught up in the whirlwind of her classes and all of the greetings between all of the girls again. Everybody had been evacuated to the country by governmental instruction, and since the Prep Academy had shut, most parents had simply decided that evacuation would have to do. As rich children, the vast majority of her classmates had been treated well, like she and her siblings had been, at the Professor’s. Still, there were the horror stories from the slightly poorer girls, who narrated awful tales of barely being fed and forced to work in the fields, for long hours alongside their host families. 

While working fields was not such an awful thing as her contemporaries made it to be, Susan felt a little sorry for their experiences. Still, in light of that, she was unsure as to how the rest of the classmates, treated well and allowed to go to the schools in the countryside, had managed to find trouble there. There were several tales of spiteful pranks and jokes down between townies and the inhabitants of the country, and the petty nature of it all disgusted Susan, where she might have before participated. 

As she dived through the school pool’s water, with ease and speed after a strong arguments about which group of girls got to swim first, Susan found herself wondering how people so easily found conflict everywhere. It had been much the same in Narnia, if without many of the class separations here. After the last remnants of the Witch’s forces were either dead or had sworn loyalty to the Narnia Crown (no matter how reluctantly), Susan had been expecting peace. but still, there had always been arguments, and skirmishes between races, spiteful, awful things that shouldn’t have been capable of Aslan’s good creatures. 

Something that carried over to here. Even with the common enemy of the Germans to band against, people still found other ways to make life miserable, in a way that Susan hadn’t really noticed before.   
There were enough reasons to be miserable with things like rationing and the exhaustion of physical training, without people making it worse. 

With a quick slap, Susan hit the wall of the pool and let her limbs still in the water as Miss Roberts, the Physical Education teacher clapped, loudly. “And Miss Pevensie manages to beat all of you once again! Have any of you been doing anything during this break?” she demanded. 

The other girls, who were still finishing, weakly made their way towards the poolside, and pulled themselves up and out of the water, heading to the benches to wrap themselves in towels. The good thing about going first in these sorts of competitions was how easy it was to set the bar for everyone else, but then the rest of the lesson would be sat in the beastly cold and in a wet swimming suit. Susan rubbed at the ends of her hair, as Miss Roberts approached her, an uncharacteristically warm smile on her face. Goodness, for a moment, her eyes looked just like Glinnaeus, her faun tutor and sole bearer of hell-in-Narnia with his constant drilling of etiquette and archery rules. 

“That was another personal record beaten, Miss Pevensie. I suppose the country air has done you some good! I’ll be hoping to see you competing in the interdistrict competitions come spring time, yes?” Susan smiled hesitantly and nodded, carefully. While she did understand the necessity of competitions, like the Lone Island Jousting or even the wretched archery competition she’d had with Trumpkin and Caspian, it didn’t particularly mean that she enjoyed them. She much preferred to not have any conflict at all. Not that anyone else ever seemed to understand that. 

But Aslan had never been one to make life easy for her. “Do stop showing off, Miss Guo!” called Miss Roberts, looking quite annoyed as one Allyson Guo dived into the water, body arching like a naiad during the Bacchanal. Susan watched Allyson’s body move through the water with the same ease as herself, and wondered why it was that Miss Roberts was so willing to praise Susan, but held criticism for Allyson’s rather perfect form. And as Allyson finished first, just four seconds off Susan’s own score, Susan wondered why she wasn’t friends with Allyson herself. 

For that matter, she wondered as she looked upon the girls in the class that few talked to, the girls who were not friendly with the majority of the class...why had Susan never talked to them before, except perhaps to ask them to pass the butter at breakfast or to pick up her pencil? Did she know anything about them besides their names and best subject? With a slightly contemplative frown, Susan watched as Alice and Kendra emerged from the water, looking thoroughly miserable and wondered what she should do. 

There was a high chance that Alice and Kendra would feel hurt if she started talking to other girls and being friendly with them, but Susan was almost certain that it was the only way to ease her heart, which was stabbing at her for her ignorance to these issues. In matters of the heart, Susan valued Lucy’s opinion, more than anyone else’s, and she couldn’t help but wish for her sister’s counsel now more than ever. 

Still, that meant little, when there were little opportunities for underclassmen and upperclassmen to interact, save for when firsties did errands for upperclassmen. With all of these thoughts crowding her head, Susan was sure that she was absolutely beastly company through the day, and wisely, Alice and Kendra both avoided her, well into the night, where Susan tossed and turned, at her position next to the window. 

It was perhaps because of her turmoil that Susan was awake enough to hear the loud stone colliding against the window. With a start, Susan bolted up. It took a couple more stones for Susan to go to the window and carefully draw open the blinds, towards the moonless night. On the other side of the window was a grinning Lucy, perched on the branches of the tree that crept up next to the fourth form dormitory. Susan’s eyes widened and she quickly opened the window, letting the sound of the night seep inside the tepid dormitory. In a smooth leap, Lucy cleared the distance between the tree and window, landing deftly inside Susan’s dorm room, a crooked smile on her face as she pulled Susan into a long hug. 

“It took you long enough! It’s the third day I’ve been up there.” she said, as if it was Susan’s fault for not being awake at a ridiculous hour. 

“Lu! What are you doing here?’ asked Susan, shushing her, and pulling Lucy behind the covers of her four-poster bed. None of the other girls had showed signs of stirring yet, but if anyone awoke, she’d be in really huge trouble, well-liked by most or not. 

“Talking to you, of course. It’s awful hard to get anything done during the day, and it is so hard to sleep in a room where I’m not by the door.” Lucy said, pulling an annoyed face as she swung her legs against the end of the bed. Susan groaned softly as she noticed the grime around Lucy’s socks.

“Oh, give those here, Lucy! Do you let Matron wash your clothing at all?” she asked, reaching down to pull off the dirt ridden things. Goodness, she didn’t understand why anyone thought that white clothing was a good idea to give to Lucy--or any other eleven year-olds, really. Black and red were the only things that Lucy didn’t manage to mysteriously stain with something in her usual work. 

“Oh, forget socks, Susan!” Lucy said, dismissively, swatting at Susan’s hands. “That can wait. I want to talk to you. I missed you...” she trailed off and Susan paused in her fussing. Carefully she pulled Lucy into a hug and Lucy eagerly reciprocated, squeezing Susan hard that she could barely breathe. 

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” Susan apologized, quietly, into Lucy's blonde hair. “I should have talked to you more. But this week has been awful busy and all of the girls have something or another they want me to see or do with them. You must come during your prep time and give me a hug or something, or I’ll quite forget!”

Lucy’s grip loosened somewhat and Susan could almost see the annoyed frown on Lucy’s face, before Lucy’s breath hitched slightly, in a very familiar tone. 

“Silly.” said Susan, as she felt a soft wetness on her shoulder from Lucy’s soft sobbing. She pulled Lucy closer and softly stroked Lucy’s back. “Haven’t you managed a castle all by yourself for more than a month while the rest of us were all off doing diplomatic nonsense?” 

Lucy swallowed heavily. “Yes, but then Mr. Tumnus would come over from Lantern Waste and Samchester and Cook and Swiftfield and Hogglehock were all at the castle and I wasn’t _alone_. I don’t think anyone’s nice at all in this ghastly place, Susan!” she said, fiercely, almost angry-sobbing.

Susan leant back, raising an eyebrow. “That’s got to be an exaggeration, Lu. Everyone’s just as lost and confused as you might feel. And you might not rub elbows easily with the people that you’d expect to be jolly with, but friends spring up from the most unexpected of places. And you’re hardly bad at making friends! You were always able to make your life easier by force of will!” Susan found it hard to believe that Lucy was having trouble at being friendly, when it was Lucy’s ability to make everybody instantly love her as herself, that Susan so envied. 

“It’s different in Narnia...” Lucy murmured, looking away. 

“Aren’t there any similarities?” Susan asked, quietly. In that moment, she couldn’t help but think of how Allyson had looked just like a naiad and how Miss Roberts reminded her of the rather overbearing but kindly Glinnaeus.

“Well...” Lucy trailed off, and there was an absolutely brilliant smile on her face. “The trees here. They just look like they could spring alive at a word. I can see exactly what sort of dryad they’d be! It’s just like in Caspian’s world, before Aslan woke them up. They’re just waiting for the call, but oh, how they rustle in the breeze, chattering to each other.” And if Susan closed her eyes, she could almost see in her head, the dryads that Lucy was talking about, and the words of seduction they whispered. “You?” asked Lucy, eyes shining at the prospect of more similarities with the land she had loved more than life. 

Susan tapped her fingers against her bedspread. “I can’t see the trees like you, but I see the people. And there are a lot of people who haven’t got any friends as well, and who’d definitely appreciate one in you.”

“In your year?” asked Lucy, twisting around to meet Susan’s gaze, sharply. Susan nodded and Lucy thwapped her arm, looking thoroughly disapproving. Susan sometimes marvelled at how Lucy could completely switch roles of a conversation, in the space of a breath. “Why aren’t you friends with them, then, Su?” And then she managed to cut to the heart of Susan’s dilemma in less than a moment. 

“Alice and Kendra wouldn’t like it.” Susan said, staring at the sleeping face of Alice, who seemed to be dreaming of something troubling. 

“But would Aslan want us to reach out to people who need it? If Alice and Kendra are really friends, they’d understand. And if they don’t understand, they’re not real friends, right?” asked Lucy and Susan raised an eyebrow.

"I can say the same for you, Lucy.” she said, lightly and Lucy just laughed.

“Silly Su. I haven’t got any friends yet. I’ve been in detention for the past week.” Lucy said, easily, as if it wasn’t something awful and Susan gripped Lucy’s shoulder, in horror. 

“What? Already? _How_??” Susan demanded, shaking Lucy’s shoulders, with a faint shock, but an underlying resignment. Of _course_ Lucy had already done something like this. 

“Well, one of the girls in our dorm, Anne Featherstone admitted she couldn’t stand frogs when we were packing up for bed after the Headmistress’s speech, and someone was really awful and stuck them in her desk the day after next anyway. She got in _awful_ trouble with Father MacPhail for screaming in the middle of class. And then I tried to explain what happened, but he simply wouldn’t take any explanation, calling her a God’s abomination. And he just kept going on about how interrupting the sermon meant she’d burn in hellfire, and I couldn’t take it anymore!” Susan’s eyes pinched together tightly, and she could definitely see where this was going. 

“Let me guess. You shouted back at Father MacPhail and he rapped your palm.” Susan said, her voice slightly pained.

“And a week’s worth of scripture lines.” Lucy added, in sulky defiance. “And then afterwards, none of the other girls would talk to me because I ratted out their trick. Well, it was awful rotten of them to pull it in the first place and then not even ‘fess up when she got in trouble.” she said, defiantly and Susan exhaled, with a slightly fond smile.

Truly, she was always Lucy the Valiant, whether it was in here or in Narnia. Ready to go to anyone’s defence and willing to sacrifice herself to do anything. “Well, if anything, I think you’ll have a friend in Anne.” Susan said, with a slight exhale. “And Father MacPhail is simply just like that. Nobody takes him seriously though, Lucy. You just have to ignore him and do his work, and not speak up in his classes again.”

Lucy scowled, crossing her arms across her chest. She looked very like Edmund in that moment, and Susan couldn’t help but smile a little. “It’s not fair! What sort of person condemns people to hellfire for being scared?! Aslan himself just gives us more strength to keep walking, despite our fear. What right does Father MacPhail have to say anything like that?”

It was a good question and Susan didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know, Lucy.” she said, quietly. “He shouldn’t have the right, but rocking the boat here doesn’t work.”

“Who says?” asked Lucy, tilting her chin up, in total defiance. “Someone like Father MacPhail can’t be someone we have to tolerate, Su! He’s the sort of person we fired from our court. He’s not a good person at all.”

“But we aren’t Kings or Queens anymore.” Susan said, nudging Lucy’s shoulder softly, and the righteous indignation that puffed up Lucy faded, until little Lucy Pevensie sat glumly on Susan’s bedspread. Susan was reminded of why she had always been been in charge of giving out bad news in Narnia. Her gentle voice always softened the blow, but after years of experience, Susan could only hear her voice as a portent of gloom. 

“There’s got to be something we can do, Susan.” Lucy said, her jaw jutting out after a few moments of doleful silence. “We should send a letter to Peter and Edmund. Maybe they’ll have a bright idea.” 

“Maybe so.” Susan, said, with a serious nod. “Peter’s bound to have something in mind.” Lucy nodded, yawning somewhat loudly and Susan frowned.

“Go on, now we’re both a bit more settled, you ought to head back to your dorm! Or Matron will be annoyed.” Lucy nodded, not protesting to this, as she yawned again. “And leave your socks here, Lu, honestly. And visit during prep time, next time, like a normal person, okay?” Susan scolded, tugging the material off Lucy’s feet. Lucy rolled her eyes again, but pulled Susan into a quick hug, before she jumped out of the window again, gone like a whiz.

-

Resolve made up from Lucy’s unassuming but always hard-hitting words, Susan took small inventory of the people who had few friends. Gwendolyn, who was so bad at sport that she always brought down whichever team she was on. Leta, who was from a poor family and so ashamed of it that she often lied and made people uncomfortable about being around her. Kaitlyn, who was studious to the point of introversion and possible misanthropy. And of course, Allyson, whose quiet nature and Chinese origin made people avoid her. Hmm. Well, Allyson was perhaps the easiest to approach, first, since Susan had her theories about why exactly she was quiet. 

That lunch, Susan grabbed her tray of food, but instead of going to join Alice and Kendra, who were both excitedly talking about the interschool lacrosse tournament, he took a seat next to the quiet Allyson. “Néih hóu?” Susan said, hesitantly. “Ngóhdeih yātchàih sihk ngaanjaufaahn hóu ma?” she said, trying to remember the phrases she’d memorized from the small Cantonese book in their library about greetings. She had no idea whether she was saying it right, but she could only hope for the best. 

Allyson’s eyes lit up and she started jabbering quickly in Cantonese at Susan. Susan frowned apologetically and reached for the small book, flipping through the main phrases it had said. One of them said _‘I am still learning’_ , didn’t it?

“Ah, you don’t speak it after all.” Allyson said, looking lightly disappointed. “I got a little over-excited, sorry Pevensie.”

“Ahh, call me Susan.” Susan said, extending her hand out, in a firm handshake. 

Allyson smiled, slightly. “Then I’m Allyson. But uhh, what are you doing, Susan?”

Susan looked down at her lap then back up at Allyson, with a casualness that Edmund would have appreciated. “Eating lunch, I would hope?”

“No, sitting with me and speaking canton, of all things.” Allyson said, and she had a toothy grin at that. Susan returned it, softly. 

“Well, I was wondering whether the reason you didn’t talk very much in class was because you didn’t know English so well, and I wanted to make sure you felt a little more comfortable...” Susan said, hesitantly, stopping as Allyson tipped back her head and laughed.

“No, no. I come from Hong Kong. We only learn English in our schools. Cantonese is for the streets and for home. School has always been English.” Allyson, taking a sip from her milk. “It has been that way ever since China was forced to give away Hong Kong to the British, in appeasement for the Opium War failure.”

Susan felt rather like she should have paid more attention to the country’s history. It had been crucial in Narnia, in order to get anywhere, but she’d never cared much about her studies until Glinnaeus had drilled the importance of education into her head. Making a note to go look over the material they had previously learnt in class and to pick up a history book from the library, Susan leant forward. “Oh, alright. Well, I’m sorry for that assumption and any offence it may have caused.”

Allyson shook her head. “Don’t worry. It was nice to hear Cantonese in a place like this.” Her eyebrows quirked, however, with slight confusion. “How did you think I was surviving classes here if my English was poor, Miss Pevensie?”

Susan shrugged. “My younger brother manages to sleep through his classes and still pass them.” she said, and Allyson grinned, with alacrity. While that was probably not the case anymore, it was certainly true of Edmund before they’d gone to Narnia, as far away as that seemed. 

“Well, if I did that, my hand would get rapped. So, thank you but no thank you!” Allyson exclaimed and Susan laughed, taking a spoonful for her food. 

“Are you trying out for the swim team?” asked Susan, curiously, moving onto her own personal curiosity. Allyson moved through the water like she was born in it, and the only reason she didn’t beat Susan at race-times was that she seemed to enjoy the water a bit too much. 

“Maybe? It’s not something I would have figured myself doing.” Allyson, with a shrug. “But they don’t have many of the club activities we had in Hong Kong, so I guess I will. If you want me to. Are you?”

Susan nodded. “They count on me to win. I don’t much like competitions, but other people do, so I participate to help out.” All friendships in Narnia had gone like this: there was always a common point to exploit and to use. It was customary to offer a lot of information on your behalf in order to receive a lot of personal information, and slowly, a deeper personal bond was forged, by virtue of the secrets shared. Of course, if a level of supremacy was to be achieved, no important secrets were to be revealed by the first person. But Susan was not making strategic friends anymore, she was simply doing a decent thing. She was no longer a Queen, so she had space to find things out about people that weren’t useful for some overarching purpose. 

...still, the same techniques applied. Susan couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as Allyson laughed about competition and opened up about her life back in Hong Kong. Was she making friends with those who had been ignored for the right reasons? Oh, but she had no idea whether what she was doing was right. 

Still, from across the room, Lucy caught her eye and gave her a large thumbs up. Surrounded by other girls, all chattering loudly and raucously, Lucy practically glowed and Susan couldn’t help but feel a little more peace about her actions, from this tacit approval. 

-

“...so wait, you’re saying that you went back to Hong Kong for the evacuation?” asked Alice, with wide eyes. Allyson nodded, meekly and Alice tossed up her hands in surprise, before starting to grill her about Hong Kong fashion, Stifling a giggle behind her hand, Susan turned back to her homework, carefully writing out the equations. 

It had been silly of her to worry about whether Alice and Kendra would take well to these things. All it had needed was a small, firm introduction, and both of them had taken to Allyson, well enough though Kendra had still looked a little dejected from Susan’s abrupt departure from their table at lunch. She supposed that her vouching for Allyson had been enough to bridge the gap, despite said annoyance. She was surprised at how their conversation fluidly melded between more adult topics and simple things like fashion. Perhaps Susan hadn't given their intelligence enough credit. Had she been doing what people had done to her for several years in England? She felt ashamed, but glad that Aslan had shown her the mistakes in her ways. 

Now, she had to think about her other classmates. Still, she felt a little emboldened by her first success. It couldn’t be so hard after this. 

As she settled down to try and finish up her sums, there was a large shout and Susan was tackled to the floor by a flying ball of golden hair and laughter. While all of Susan’s instincts had gone into high alert, Susan just laughed as she embraced Lucy’s exuberant love. She was not in Narnia. Little girls in England had very little to fear, especially now that the German raids had decreased in number again. 

“Susan, Susan, Susan, Susan!” she shouted, brandishing a large envelope in her face. “I can’t believe Edmund beat us to it! Now we have to write a super long letter back!”

With a nod, Susan looked over the well sealed letter, with Edmund’s familiar scrawl over it and slit open the top with her fingers, quickly and lithely. The two of them had drawn attention with Lucy’s entrance, but most people were studiously not looking her direction to give her a bit of privacy, now they’d realized that it was simply Susan’s little sister. 

There were five different letters inside the envelope, and Susan pulled out the one that looked largest, addressed to both her and Lucy. The handwriting was definitely Edmund’s messy, rapid scrawl, but she saw a few of Peter’s additions in the margins, along with tiny doodles from both of them. She wondered when they’d written this and desperately hoped that it hadn’t been during some class. Lucy pushed Susan to the side, so both of them could adequately curl up in the chair by the fireplace and read the letter, together. 

_Dear Susan and Lucy,_

_We have only just returned to school, and yet it feels like a heavy weight upon our shoulders. The classes are much the same, the teachers are still inexplicable bores, and the students have not gotten much livelier. It’s been quite something to return to normal education after almost seven months under the Professor’s careful tutelage, I can’t much bear it._

Next to this line, there was a small lion head, with carefully penned out eyes. “That must mean they’re talking about Narnia.” Lucy said, tapping the lion and Susan nodded.

_Yet despite the knowledge that things are overtly different. I feel like a new person. Much of what the Professor taught us was not through lessons, but about deportment and composure, and I find that much of it translates over to daily life. I’ve never been more glad for such life experiences. Though I daresay his lessons about math have made actual classes despicably dull, I cannot help but agonize over the fact that we have already covered this material previously. I am sure that you must be feeling the same._

Here Edmund’s handwriting broke off, and Peter’s replaced it, spilling into the margin. _Despite the similarities, there are plenty of differences to be found, and I would suspect that is more in the environment and the attitude of the people around us. But War is War, and this overwhelming sensation is the same in every time._

It was a saying they had heard before and Susan’s lips pressed together. _War is War_ had been Lune’s saying for all of them, when they had attempted to classify their common struggles in Narnia as skirmishes and fights, to try and downplay how hard it had been for them, at that rotten beginning. Not many had liked the tolerant ideas towards traitors that their Kings and Queens had held, wanting revenge for one hundred years of slavery instead. It had been a difficult beginning, with far too much conflict for Susan’s liking.

Lucy’s hand pressed into Susan’s shoulder, though her smile was dimmer and slightly less content. “War is war, everywhere...surely he can’t mean that there are Germans in his school.” Lucy murmured, with a frown, looking for doodles or underlinings to help comprehension. 

Susan shook her head. “Peter doesn’t mean that. He wants to remind us to remain on guard, like we were in Narnia, for any sort of discontent or strife. Does he mean for us to have a role in the War here?” she puzzled, softly. Peter had always been the one to hate war the most after Susan, mostly because he had to lead and kill and always be gracious there. And for that, he’d always received the most criticism for the policies that they’d held towards any people who had allied with the Witch or with Narnia’s enemies. Why would he wish for them to get involved in another war that wasn’t theirs, beyond what anyone living in this country had to deal with?

Edmund’s handwriting replaced Peter’s quickly. _The recruitment corps always here is a rather large reminder of the omnipresence of War. Peter’s thinking of joining them, and they certainly have their eye on us, since we run pretty damn well. Our latin teacher says the War’s likely to keep going for another four years so there’ll be plenty of time for all of us to do something to throw our lot in. I don’t know what Father will say, though._

 _Or Mother._ cut in Peter’s handwriting, looking distinctly more messy. Lucy giggled. _But I am thinking of it. Especially since now they seem to be recruiting women too, they’re short on people, and we’re more than capable, all of us. Susan, do they have a WREN outpost at your school? Or have they decided that upper-class women aren’t allowed to do anything? That certainly seems to be the prevailing attitude among a lot of the lads here. How much I’d like to take a stick to their heads, at some points._

 _Brother has gotten especially violent and averse to stupidity. I think he forgets that this what I had to deal with in him for almost twenty years._ Edmund’s handwriting penned and Susan could almost see the sly smile on Edmund’s face as he scrawled it on and Peter’s curious face slowly turning into one of indignation. 

“Edmund’s probably got bruises, then.” Lucy commented, a light laugh and Susan nodded, as she turned the page. 

_Edmund’s snarking aside, we’ve mostly been well. Those sandwiches didn’t last too long, but we raided the tuck shop once we got here, so all’s well that ends well, I suppose. While classes are very dull and the War’s an unpleasant feeling, there are little joys around us. The trees and flowers here look simply lovely. We’ve been growing flowers on the roof as a measure to try and hide ourselves from the Luftwaffe bombers, and they’re quite reminiscent of the Professor’s House, though that might be because I’m not the one looking after them._

There was a dryad sketched on the side of the page and Susan rolled her eyes. “As if we couldn’t understand what he’s on about. The Professor’s House was swell but we hardly left the library.” she muttered darkly to Lucy, who buried her giggles in Susan’s shoulder. 

Edmund took over Peter’s writing again and Susan was grateful for how differently the two brothers wrote. It would have been near impossible to keep track of this half-conversation, half-letter, otherwise. _I keep wondering about how everyone at the House are doing. I can’t help but miss them, though knowing that we’ll never see them again is something nearly detestable. I hope that our little prince if doing well and DLF is not too grumpy. Sometimes, I wish that we’d been able to live and die there instead of having to come back here. But Peter says that there’s a reason for everything and that our being here is for the greater good. He says that you’ll get it, Lucy, but I think he’s just being frustrating again. It certainly doesn’t feel like there’s anything to do here._

“Do you understand him, Lucy?” asked Susan, softly and Lucy frowned down at the letter with a frown over her delicate features. 

“I think...it’s about what Aslan wants right? If our sole purpose was to live and die in Narnia, we would have done so. But he brought us back here. So there’s got to be something here to do or to serve. I guess, Peter’s suggesting that’s the war effort.” Lucy said, slowly. 

Susan bit her lip. “I....I don’t agree.” she said, softly. “I don’t think, don’t know enough...but hasn’t Father always condemned it?”

Lucy pulled a helpless face. “How much does Father really know, though? When we got back, we learnt just how much we disagreed with Mum...you could barely be in the same room as her...it could be the same. I think Peter might be right.”

Susan frowned. “Well, I’m not pledging to a cause without being sure of my facts. The newspapers could help, I suppose. We should check out some history books. Perhaps send a letter to the Professor and beg his opinion? He’s probably wondering how we’re doing anyway.” At Lucy’s annoyed and pleading look, Susan sighed. “Oh look, I’m not saying no! I’m just saying I need to time to think about it. Edmund said the war’s going to go for four years if not more, and I think it can jolly well wait for me to make an informed decision about this. War shouldn’t be taken lightly, Lucy.”

Lucy exhaled and let her chin drop on Susan’s shoulder. “I don’t know Susan, but I feel Aslan’s hand in it. I think Peter has the right idea, even if Edmund has doubts.” At Susan’s conflicted face, Lucy pulled up the letter again, and they both commenced reading. 

_Susan, I know that war isn’t something you will ever take lightly, so I’m not asking for immediate approval. I just want you to think about it. We need a purpose, or we will falter. And even if we do not serve for this war, we must strive to better ourselves in any case. But in the end, I leave the decision to you and Lucy. My vote is yes, Edmund’s is yes as well._ Peter’s writing was neater than it had been in the rest of the latter, and she could almost see him pausing and making it as diplomatic as possible, with Edmund’s absent-minded corrections. 

Susan exhaled. “And your vote is yes as well.” she said, turning to Lucy.

Lucy nodded, looking a little apologetic. “Sorry Su. But I think we can do something. More than what we were thinking a couple of nights back. I don’t doubt it.”

Susan exhaled. “Give me time, I’ll probably come around to it. But for now, I need to finish my prepwork and I suspect you need to do the same.”

Lucy flopped sideways into Susan’s lap and Susan noticed a few people were starting to look their way again. They’d taken care to be fairly quiet during the letter, but she supposed Lucy being all over her was different. Still, she tried to not let their gazes get to her, running her hands through Lucy’s golden locks. 

“Lu.” Susan chided, without heat, but Lucy didn’t move, as she finished up the joint letter quickly, eyes scanning over the rest of it. 

“I think you ought to teach me how to swim again.” Lucy said, quietly. “Edmund says the War’s going to definitely be in France for a long time and in the Trenches.”

“Women are only allowed in the airforce.” Susan said, looking down at Lucy, with a light frown. But Lucy was grinning up, with the self-contented look she had when she thought she had a good idea.

“I was never pretty like you, Susan, don’t you think I could pass off as a boy?” 

Susan made a completely scandalized face. “And where do you expect to get fake ID to pass off as a boy? Edmund and Peter will go to war before you will even look old enough. And then you always looked like a girl on the battlefields of Narnia. It wouldn’t work. That’s a tremendously bad idea.” 

Lucy pulled herself up, a light frown on her face. “Well, if you want to be a complete wet-blanket, I guess I’ll go to the fronts as a nurse. They need them as much as they need fighters. And I know how to deal with injuries. But I’ll still need to swim, so we should get started soon.”

“I’ll definitely teach you. But not now, I want to pass my classes, Lucy.” Lucy giggled and stuck out her tongue at Susan, before settling down next to her elder sister, to read her own personal letters from Edmund and Peter. Rolling her eyes, Susan moved over so Lucy had a little more room next to her, and continued to work on her math equations, Lucy’s warmth at her side, like she preferred. 

-

With an exhale, Susan continued walking, a large stack of history books in her hands. She had been intending in only finding one book, after Allyson and her newest addition to her friend-group, Gwendolyn, had both talked about something in British Colonial History, but it had been nearly impossible to simply find one that had sufficiently seemed to address the ideas, and then some books had simply looked too interesting, until finally, much to the consternation of the librarian, she had walked out with about ten books about British colonial history. 

She wondered what she would feel, if she did her research. On the one hand, Allyson sounded downright cynical and Gwendolyn was softly critical about the way things worked. On the other hand, Susan knew how hard it was to rule colonies well. Narnia had owned colonies themselves. She wondered what she’d think and how the textbooks would spin it. 

Well, Narnia wasn’t England. There were sure to be differences about colonies here and there, since there were so many vast differences between other things. Still, the idea of similarities made her uncomfortable. She couldn’t help but wonder what the citizens of Galma and the Lone Isles had been whispering, when Susan hadn’t been around, to make them happier by smiling and interacting with them well. She had been meaning to write another letter to Peter, and she suspected this particular moral quandary would take up a significant portion of her letter. 

Just as she was about to turn a corner, Susan heard Lucy’s name, and old habit almost forced her to duck behind the corridor and listen in to the conversation, hiding her breathing, as she shut her eyes, to try and increase her hearing capabilities. 

“It’s quite unnatural. The older Pevensie girl is perfect. A little lacking in studies, perhaps, but even that’s picking up. But her sister is a complete troublemaker! Already, little Lucy Pevensie’s managed to get into two weeks detention.”

Two weeks? Susan frowned, softly, it had only supposed to be one week. What was going on?

“How?” asked the other voice, a nasal voice that Susan recognized as that of the ethics and morality teacher. 

“Why, she not only interrupted Father MacPhail and argued with him during his first mass for the first years, but she also took it upon herself to boycott her sewing lessons, saying that women had better things to learn in this wartime period than how to darn clothes! Goodness!” said the first voice, with a light titter. “Somehow, she managed to get at least half of her class on her side. But it was clear who the ringleader was, so she was placed in a few more detentions.”

“Goodness me, what a problem child! Perhaps you should ask the other Pevensie to discipline her. It’s simply out of the question. And it can’t be the mother’s fault if she brought up someone as sensible as Susan Pevensie. If not, we may have to resort to something more desperate.”

Susan internally exhaled. This was the same tactic that Lucy had used in war and in internal affairs. Continue to push at the antagonist, relentlessly, with single-minded devotion and passion, until they plied under her hands. But it was a tactic was uniquely suited to Narnia, where despite her short stature, Lucy _had_ been a Queen, with the political clout and light that came from being Aslan’s favoured child and a royal. Here, she would merely be treated like a miscreant child for actions like that. Oh heavens, the teachers didn’t need to tell her to go talk to Lucy, he would just have to go and do it herself. 

With a slightly annoyed mutter, Susan whirled on her heel and headed towards the first-year dorms, single-mindedly, parting the crowd of second-years heading her way. Goodness, didn’t Lucy know the meaning of keeping her head down? Opening the door loudly, Susan interrupted the first year girls, who were all perched on their beds in their nighties, exchanging tuck shop sweeties, with Lucy and a few friends in the corner, Lucy avidly spinning stories. 

Lucy looked up and grinned, warmly at the sight of Susan, a smile that dimmed as she saw how annoyed Susan looked. “Su?” asked Lucy, scrambling to her feet, to take out the books from Susan’s arms, worry etched into her small face. 

“Is it true that you boycotted your sewing class?” demanded Susan, quietly. 

Lucy practically glowed as she bounced up. “I know that you wouldn’t approve, Su, but it’s simply unforgivable. I asked about the War in history and nobody wants to give us a straight answer. So even if there aren’t straight answers, we should be doing something to contribute!” And there were fervent approval from the rest of the dorm, with mutters about elder brothers and younger brothers and fathers off to the war, so why couldn’t girls do something too? 

Of course. Of course Lucy had started a revolution and a new dorm of _suffragettes_. Susan laughed, weakly, and took a seat opposite Lucy, gripping Lucy’s hands, softly. “I understand. Really, I do. But the teachers are furious. They would expel you if you keep doing things like this, Lucy. And Mother would go insane.” 

Lucy met Susan’s gaze coolly, gently squeezing Susan’s hands. “I’m not entirely sure I care if they expel me, Su.” she said, softly.And the meaning there was about how little they cared about their Mother’s opinion, now. It hurt Susan a little, but she almost thirty years old, inside, even if she sometimes felt hopelessly young in this awkward, blossoming body of hers. 

Susan exhaled, softly, and turned around to the other girls in the dorm. “For your information, sewing is actually very important to the war effort. It’s important to know how to mend and darn clothes, for girls and for boys. Since our textiles factories are busy manufacturing parachutes and uniforms for the boys abroad, we have to make sure to not waste their time by buying new clothing, where our old clothes can be easily mended Of course, we ought to be taught history alongside sewing, but dismissing the ideas about sewing isn’t something I think you should do.”

“Right.” said a small blonde girl, who pressed close to Lucy’s side. “But what do we do to make them teach us history?”

Lucy gave Susan a soft, imploring look, her eyes widening slightly and Susan had never been able to refuse that. Pulling her hands free of Lucy’s, Susan glanced at the door and made a motion to close it. A black-haired girl in braids got up and shut it, the door thudding softly. “You didn’t hear me say this.” she said, quietly, her voice hushed, making everyone lean in to her her response. “But you boycott your history class, instead.” 

There was loud murmurs and Lucy reached up in one quick snap, and called for silence. Just like a little army, Susan couldn’t help but eye her sister, with a newfound air of respect. Not Kings and Queens anymore, perhaps, but Lucy had become a revolutionary leader in the absence of a throne. “When your history teacher reaches a point of frustration, you must write a contract to break the boycott, that included fair treatment and proper information. I think you can ask Kendra Marshall for help with that, she’s very good at forming words well.” Susan said, carefully. Brokering a treaty with an oppressive government was done in this same manner, and she was sort of unbelievable that she was teaching Lucy’s soldiers how to deal in warfare. 

“They’re threatening to expel me, right?” asked Lucy, pressing a hand to her mouth, eyes flashing. “Well, they can’t expel all of us. If we all do the same thing I’ve been doing, they’ll have choice but to give in.”

“And there are other ways of warfare if they won’t accept the contract.” Susan murmured, contemplatively. “But attempting peace is the best strategy. Always has been.”

There were conspiratorial grins between the girls of the dorm and Susan glared coolly at all of them. “This conversation remains in here, and isn’t repeated to anyone else. Or you might as well guarantee Lucy being expelled and things about the war effort not being taught ever, understood? Not a single other person hears about this.”

There were nods among the girls, and Susan was sure that she could count on it. People rarely ratted each other out and now that the whole class looked united in a cause, Susan saw even less reason for any betrayal. Slowly, everyone drifted back to their own conversations, until only Lucy’s story-telling group was left at her side. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Lucy.” Susan said, significantly. 

Lucy smiled, softly. “I sense Aslan’s hand in this. I’ll do what’s necessary to gain us knowledge. We're at this school to be edified.”

Susan exhaled and rose up again, a significant glance at her books. She understood, but she had never been the people-rouser, only the people pacifier, she only understood on a superficial level. Still, she trusted Lucy and loved her. “I had better pretend to have shouted at you for this. I hope you don’t particularly mind.”

“Of course, Su.” Lucy said, softly, in her own recognition of Susan’s role as the spy. Susan smiled wanly at Lucy, rising to her feet with her books, and walked away, quickly, trying to make herself angry enough to pretend this deception. She had not missed being a spy, but it somehow had been all too easy to fall back into this role. Was this her role in this newest ploy?

 _Oh Aslan, give me strength, for I am weak!_ she called up to the sky, and only for a moment, she felt a warm breath at her back. Still, it was enough to muster up a sufficient scowl to storm down the corridor, as if furious at the world. 

-

The problem that Edmund had only briefly mentioned in his letters soon became a rather large problem for Susan. Before Narnia, she had only been an average student, with little interest in anything outside sports and a few of their literature books. But after Narnia, everything except History and Languages felt as easy as breathing, and her effort levels in History and Languages, as things that were very necessary for survival here, had abruptly increased, especially with the current incompetence of her teachers in teaching the very subject that was currently dictating their future. She missed having politics classes, but then again, no English politician was ever going to encourage women to join the old boys club. 

Her increased efforts made the teachers look at her differently, with a new respect, and even her fellow students were starting to comment about Susan Pevensie and the huge stack of books by her bed and her added interest in studies. People were perplexed at how over just seven months, her attitude towards education had completely changed. The teachers were delighted, but there was a considerably less happy attitude among her friends. 

“What gives, Su?” asked Alice at one point, when Susan was flicking through the french dictionary at lunch, only half paying attention to conversation at the table, which had been centred around Kendra and her fear of joining the lacrosse team. “Do you even care about our school’s sport?”

“Not particularly. You know I don’t much like competitions without a point.” Susan said, absently, scribbling down a better version of her translation, berating herself for sounding so formal, when she knew that no child her age would have used language like that. If there was any chance of entering France and understanding and exchanging conversations with actual francophones, she would be exposed immediately, if she spoke with the dialect of a foreigner. She and Edmund had learned that the long way with their disaster with Calormen spies, and the loss of valuable spies. 

...was she coming around to Peter’s idea after all? Susan shuddered lightly, and hunkered down again, before being interrupted by a soft cough from Kendra. 

Alice glared at her and Gwendolyn raised an eyebrow, surprised at the easy dismissal, when Susan was usually so attentive. “Susan!” Alice exclaimed, looking annoyed, and Susan looked up, a serious expression on her face. 

“There are more important things right now.” she’d chided, mildly, and Alice had subsided like a scolded child. 

And from then on, the rumours spread even more wildly through St Bridget's, of Susan sounding more like Matron than a schoolgirl. Her friends, made up of Kendra, Alice and the girls who had little friends among the school, fiercely defended her, something for which Susan was always proud to hear. Still, Alice and Kendra often gave her speculative, worried looks, when they thought she wasn’t looking. Of course, it was understandable, they had known her intimately before she had left to Narnia. This change must have been disconcerting to them.

At least Lucy’s rumours were not about her change, the benefit of being new to St Bridget’s. Nobody had known Lucy before Narnia, after all. No, people talked about Lucy’s revolution now, and how the first years demanded to be taught about war. There was a trend of how the older the girls were, the less they seemed to want to be involved, but Susan was quite enthused by how enthusiastically the other lower years indulged in their own rebellions against their pitiful education. 

But as she grew more and more accustomed to the idea of joining into this Great War, her mind turned further and further away from the simple restrictions of classwork and school-life. Little petty fights between her classmates mattered less than the reality of oppression in Vichy France. The ideas and rhetoric that had formed the current Germany and Italy fascism was far more important than the midnight feasts proposed by the upperclassmen. And the languages of German and French became crucial to her education, far more than the religious gospels preached by the Fathers. 

And slowly, people’s opinions about Susan Pevensie changed. With a mind so preoccupied with war preparation and languages and history and newspapers, she simply had no time for bullying. Anything silly was quieted down with a glare and a few quiet words of rebuke. Midnight Feasts of sixth years were not ratted out for punishment, but were simply dampened before they began, with a quiet admonishment about the worry it would give teachers should there be another bomb raid. 

The teachers started to get worried. Between Lucy’s revolution now having lasted over three months, and Susan growing even more studious, to the point of delving deep into the most forgotten crannies of the library, with Edmund and Peter’s recommendations in hand, the Pevensies were very worrying to all forms of authority. After all, girls of upper-class status weren’t supposed to anything but marry well and titter happily. It was all very well to do well in the ordained school subjects, but Susan Pevensie’s reaching was starting to get worrying. She had received a politely worded cease-and-desist letter. Lucy had taken one look at it and had ripped it into tiny shreds herself, with an unhappy frown about how she didn’t hate easily, but that she really hated this school. 

And of course, with something like that to motivate her more, her nights became an endless practise of the old ciphers that she and Edmund had once used, scribbling codewords and codenames in glyphs and words, and burning them as soon as she had memorized them. She barely slept, between working on building her muscles through swimming, studying up on essential things for being a spy and regular studying for class. 

Which was what led her to being cloistered in the darkest part of the Library, way past curfew, cramped over a poorly translated Japanese document, as the papers increasingly reported on the aggressions of Japan in the Pacific Ocean. Edmund had said that he would tackle Russian and Japanese, but Susan almost wished that she’d insisted on reading up on Japanese too, it was near impossible to actually understand this. 

“You know Susan,” Lucy murmured, slipping up to her side. “You used to get so annoyed at me when I used to go through after a battlefield and heal everyone without any rest on my behalf. How is this any different?” she asked, softly. “I’ll have to call you a huge hypocrite, and I’d rather not do that.”

Susan looked up at Lucy, who was grinning, softly. “You’re supposed to be in bed.”

“I’m supposed to be.” Lucy agreed, as she took a seat on top of Susan’s desk, placing her light on top of Susan’s work. “But you’ll find that all of the girls are currently decorating our classrooms in suffragette posters, with glue, so it’s more of a suggestion than a rule, now.”

“You aren’t with them?” asked Susan, carefully moving away Lucy’s torch, so she could keep reading her page. 

“I already did my part, but we saw the light and I thought it was a teacher and went to investigate. Just you, though. I’m glad.” Lucy said, swinging her legs, carefully and deliberately moving her torch to settle on top of Susan’s book, again. Susan looked up at Lucy, who shook her head. “There’s no reason for you to do this at midnight, Susan.”

“We all have to do our part, that’s what Peter said. So I’m doing mine. Edmund and I were spymasters, but we have to start out with actually becoming good spies.” Susan murmured, softly, moving the torch aside, again, with a tad more irritation.

“You and Ed became good spies over five years. You can’t do it in five months, you’ll kill yourself.” Lucy insisted, frowning. And oh, Lucy had a way of putting things that made Susan feel awfully bad about herself, sometimes. 

“Well we have to, don’t we! We haven’t got the time to waste. Our bodies have to get used to what we were back there. I’m not even beautiful yet, so I have to work on everything else, until I am. They’ll need us soon enough.” Susan snapped, angrily. “And you’re tiny, what do you even expect to get done?”

Lucy frowned and her legs hit Susan’s shoulder, dully. But she didn’t immediately respond, her mouth pulled down into a deep frown, and that was how Susan knew her comments had cut to the core, and instantly regretted her words. “Aslan expects us to do what we can. Not any more, but not any less, either. This is beyond your capacity. How can you be a good spy in a couple of years if you burn out now?” Lucy said, carefully. At Susan’s pensive frown, Lucy brightened a little, and continued.“You know, I was talking about it with Ed. If Aslan wanted us to go straight into the war, he would have left us with the Professor and the bombs would have kept falling. But I’m pretty sure that he wants us here in the school, doing something. Preparing our skills, honing our skills, learning something from this awful place. So you should stop hurrying. We should take this as it is, Su.”

Susan exhaled, shakily and reached out for Lucy’s hand. Lucy instead, stumbled into Susan’s lap, until they were both desperately hugging. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Honestly. But I...I can’t do this, Lucy. I hate this war. I hate it so much. I just want to get into it, so it will end sooner.” Susan whispered into Lucy’s shoulder, hating herself for burdening Lucy with her woes. Still, she felt less heavy, and less ill. 

“Patience, dearheart.” Lucy said, in a scratchy voice, that was barely audible. It sounded bizarre and Susan pulled away, feeling confused. Lucy grinned. “What? That’s what Aslan would say! And since he’s not here, I’m going to say it for him.”

Susan giggled, helplessly, wiping away her tears and Lucy beamed at her. “We’ve got work here to do, yet. This place is awful, but I’m certain that’s why we’ve got to make it less awful, right?” Lucy pleaded and Susan nodded, smoothing Lucy’s hair down, running her fingers through Lucy’s blonde locks, carefully. She hadn’t had a chance to be this alone with Lucy since that night in Caspian’s Narnia, underneath the stars. 

“I’m tired. I’m tired and we haven’t even started. It’s just so large.” Susan said, softly. “I’m not entirely sure that if Aslan wants us to focus on the War, that we’d want to make us focus on the school first.” 

“Well that’s why you shouldn’t burn out so early.” Lucy said, matter-of-factly and when Susan affixed her with a judging look, Lucy nodded, more seriously. “It is awfully big. But so was Narnia when we first started, right? And you managed to get Cair Paravel in order within a week, and Narnia within a year. We’ve just got to work together, right? You me, Peter, Edmund: we’ve got to succeed. And Aslan’s on our side.” 

“So much hope.” Susan murmured, tucking Lucy’s hair behind her ear. “I’m glad. If you think we’ll win, I know we will.” 

Lucy threw herself in Susan’s arms. “Thank you.” she whispered, muffled into Susan’s neck, and Susan rubbed down her back, trying to stop herself from crying again. She’d missed this, this open honesty with Lucy, what had broken somewhere between their Golden Age and Caspian. 

They stayed there for a while, before Lucy pulled away, a slightly weak smile on her face. “It’s so bizarre, I keep expecting to be hitting your breasts when I hug you, and I never do. I’m still not used to being ten again.”

“No, neither am I.” Susan said, dryly, giving up on the book, flipping it shut, around Lucy. “I can’t even look at myself in a mirror anymore, for fear of my face again. It’s like my worst nightmares, back to having acne and awful menses. And makeup is rationed, so it’s even worse.”

Lucy winced. “You’re having menses already?” she asked, miserably. “I won’t be far off, then...”

Shaking her head, Susan exhaled. “And for all of this, we can’t even live through Peter’s voice slowly cracking, as he shouts at everything in sight for having the sense to laugh at him.” She and the household cook had frequently ducked into every alcove of the castle to hide their giggles from Peter, every time he’d started talking during their second year of rule. 

Lucy leant back and laughed, with amusement. “Edmund is all too lucky, he gets to live through it again.”

“Well, hopefully Edmund’s will crack during summer, so we can get our revenge and laugh at him, too.” Susan murmured and Lucy grinned, with a sleepy yawn. 

“Let’s go back to bed, Su.” Lucy demanded, pulling at Susan’s cardigan, lifting herself from Susan’s lap. “Otherwise tomorrow, you’ll fall asleep in class and miss Phase 2 of outright warfare.” 

With an exasperated sigh, Susan stood up and brushed herself off. Still, she couldn’t help but fondly smile to herself, as she tucked her books away. She wasn’t sure yet, what she was meant to do. It seemed that she was either doing too much or too little. It was frustrating being this age, without a single guide at her side. But Aslan was at her back and Lucy was ahead, her light shining out into the corridor to illuminate the way, in her abrupt way.

Susan was going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry if it feels incoherent! It has been a long while since I wrote Narnia and I hope that I did Susan and Lucy justice and that you enjoy them and their wonderful relationship. I love to work with England and the discrepancy between their roles as children and adults and maybe how'd they'd overcorrect or try too hard.


End file.
